Savvy? The Untold Adventures of Jack Sparrow
by sugarquillgirl
Summary: Jack Sparrow. Witty, often drunk, and slightly insane. But what's the real story behind the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow? Read and find out! A story I wrote with a friend very late at night...please don't flame.


**Disclaimer: **We (sadly) do not own Jack Sparrow or POTC.  
**A/N: **Please be easy on us! This is just a story two best friends wrote together for fun about our favorite character ever. Have fun when you read it and please, leave a review. Thanks a bunch. )

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**Chapter 1 - An Introduction to the Character of Jack Sparrow**

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Eight-year-old Jack Sparrow sat on the edge of the dock, dangling his feet over the warm waters of the bay of Tortuga, lapping gently against the wooden beams. The sound was comforting, but only made Jack more bored than ever. There was no one to bother, no one to throw things at, and lastly, no one to steal from. He made a mental checklist. Pie from Mrs. O'Grady? Yes, there it was, sitting right beside him. It had looked very appetizing, sitting there at the store window, but now Jack regretted getting it, as it was cold and looked moldy. His Mum's money? Yes, of course he had that as well. Just to make sure, he reached into his pocket and felt the sack of coins that sat there. Lizzy's red handkerchief? Yes, he had his sister's pride possession too, tied around his wrist because he had nowhere else to put it. " Jack sighed. "There is bloody nothing to do!" he burst out to no one in particular.

"Mother's love, Jack, you're a bit young to be saying that!" a voice burst out from behind him, and Jack turned in mild surprise to see the figure of seventeen-year-old Jeshamee Gibbs, his friend, mentor, and sometimes bodyguard standing behind him. Even though Jeshamee Gibbs was decidedly bigger and stronger than Jack, Jack always had a way of ordering Jeshamee around.

"Did I ask you to tell me what to do, mate?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows. "And why do you always say 'Mother's love,' anyway? Me mum's, I think, seventeenth boyfriend, tried to whip me when I said that, but he was a bloody pansy. Couldn't even catch me when I ran around the house five times." Jack rolled his eyes at the weakness of older men.

"What did I tell you about saying 'bloody', Jack?!" Jeshamee reached out his hands as if to strangle Jack, but Jack ducked out of the way just in the nick of time. He knew that Jeshamee would never try to hurt him, but sometimes his friend could be a little strange. Still, he admitted to himself, he was a little strange as well, what will all the stealing and things. Of course, he assured himself, he always _tried _to return it when he was finished, but sometimes he just didn't have the time.

"JACK GRANT SPARROW, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY MONEY!!!" A half-drunk lady wearing an obnoxiously lacy and slightly muddy dress and with her hair in disarray was stumbling down the dock toward Jack. Jack's eyes widened in surprise and slight annoyance.

"Mother's love, indeed," said Jack to Jeshamee, acting as if his mother had not even spoken. He did that a lot to her, due to the fact that when she was drunk he could barely understand a word she said anyway.

"JACK!!!" she screeched again in a slightly hoarse voice. "Get your little arse over here right now!"

Jack deigned to shoot his mother a condescending look. "You know," he said, winking to Jeshamee, "I don't think I will. I've still got a lot of whiskey left in this here bottle, and I've got half a mind to finish it!" He pulled a half-full bottle of whiskey he had stolen from his mother from his shirt with a flourish and displayed it proudly to his mother.

"JACK GRANT SPARROW!" his mother looked positively insane now. "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT DRINKING FROM MY PRIVATE STORES, AND WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOU'RE TOO YOUNG TO DRINK!!!!"

Jack was unfazed by his mother's outburst, but Jeshamee looked slightly unnerved. Jack, on a sudden impulse, began to walk unsteadily toward the edge of the dock. "I say, mum," he said, slurring his words, "this whiskey sure takes a bloody hold on you." Flailing his arms wildly about, he leaned precariously over the edge of the dock.

His mother screamed. "Jeshamee, grab him!" she screeched. Jeshamee turned his head from Jack to his mother, uncertain what to do. Suddenly, another piercing voice rent the air. "JESHAMEE BARTHOLOMEW GIBBS, GRAB THAT BOY! DO YOU WANT HIM TO DROWN?!"

Jeshamee winced. His mother had the uncanny ability to be aware of any shady goings-on involving him and Jack. Half of her body was hanging out the window of their house, her arms flailing nearly as wildly as Jack's had been. Her wrinkled face was as red as a tomato. "BY THE BONES OF ST. PETER, JESHAMEE, GRAB HIM! HE'S FALLING IN!" Her voice reached a positively unearthly octave.

As a loud splash momentarily confirmed, Jack had indeed fallen in. His mother screamed again and ran to the edge of the dock. "JACK! JACK!" she screeched. Jeshamee would have been worried if he hadn't have known of Jack's great skill at holding his breath for long periods of time. He merely stood by and watched, trying his best to look concerned for the sake of his own skin.

Fifteen minutes later, Jack had been reluctantly fished from the water by Jeshamee, and was lying as though dead on his bed at home. Katrina, Jack's mother, was under the impression that her son was dying of pneumonia, despite the fact that it was the middle of summer.

Katrina was running in frantic circles, cursing everything from the sofa she had just stubbed her toe on to her ex-husband, Grant Sparrow. "ALL YOUR FAULT, GRANT SPARROW! YOU HAD TO RUN OFF AND GO PIRATING AND YOU LEAVE ME TO TAKE CARE OF THIS LITTLE BRAT! I SHOULD HAVE SENT HIM OFF TO HIS UNCLE'S LIKE THE OTHERS, BUT NO, I LOVED GRANT TOO MUCH! WHY WAS I SUCH A FOOL? WHY, WHY, WHY?!?!"

She broke down in hysterical sobs next to the bed, burying her face in her arms. "I really did love him," she sobbed. "He always looked so much like Grant, handsome and clever…"

Jack, a grin spreading across his face, opened his eyes and gave a soft moan. His mother gave an unholy scream and leapt backward. "Really, Mum?" he said, abandoning the sick act. "Am I really handsome and clever? And I suppose, if I possess said qualities, that you might spare me the um…retribution that you undoubtedly were so hoping to exact on me poor pitiful arse?"

His mother advanced on the bed and Jack scrambled into a sitting position, ready to flee at any moment. "YOU ARE IN DEEP TROUBLE, JACK SPARROW!" She bawled. "YOU JUST WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!!"

"Don't feel much like waiting actually," said Jack, nimbly swinging himself over his windowsill and dropping lithely to the ground below. He would hide out at Jeshamee's for a few hours, thus putting off the punishment, although he knew he would the broom would be patiently waiting for him when he finally arrived back home.

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**Be kind and rewind...erm, I mean, review. **


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